


2 and 2 makes 4

by addicted_to_lethargy



Category: 1984 - George Orwell
Genre: "one shot", Alternate Ending, Gen, I was sad at the ending, Winston wins, snickers - Freeform, that bc it is, this is a one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 09:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9315488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addicted_to_lethargy/pseuds/addicted_to_lethargy
Summary: The rats are coming closer, Winston squirms, O'Brien is having the time of his life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was an alternate ending to 1984 because I felt upset at how they broke Winston, I mean then again, that was the best possible ending as we had to see the power of the Party oppressing even the strongest of people but hey, I wrote an ending and here we are. (I'm not the greatest writer and things could be reworded in a better way) Anyways, enjoy and criticism is always welcome :)

O’Brien towered over Winston. As his hand perched on the lever, the sweat on Winston’s brow increased. The chair began to sway, as the floor beneath his feet became like quicksand. The old man stared menacingly at the Winston tied on the chair. Winston whimpered in fear. _The rats. The rats. The rats. I hear them._ If someone else could- no! He would not betray her, he couldn’t, and he wouldn’t. Winston heard skittering and screeching from the large rodents in the cage. He breathed in an anxious wheeze that seemed to flood through his entire body.

“Will you pledge allegiance to Big Brother, Winston?” he asked in a cold, stoic voice.

He could not. He would not bring another person here, he knew the consequences, he chose this path. He would not betray her. Oh, but the screams were getting louder. He furrowed his eyebrows and gritted his teeth in one last failed attempt.

“No, never.”

O’Brien clutched the lever and pulled it down, and after that action, he shut his eyes before the impact. They ran, attaching themselves to his face by sinking their claws into his face. He convulsed in pain, and hot tears streamed down his face. He felt their dirty fur, prickling his face as their large yellow teeth tore at his cheek, leaking fresh blood down his chin, they clawed with desperation on his flesh, to devour anything to satiate their hunger.

“Stop! Stop! Please make it stop!” he shrieked, filling the entire cell with a bloodcurdling shrills to maddening echoes of entrapment. O’Brien stood there, with a bit of amusement pulling the corners of his lip.

Winston tried to grab the disgusting large rodents and wanted to hurl them at O’Brien. Yet he didn't, he began to doubt himself of this action. What a thought. This was O’Brien he was talking about. The man who essentially paved Winston’s way to safety, sheer madness it was to revolt against a man who loved you the most.  Why continue to pursue a life of such a rebellious nature? Why could he not swim with the current? Was it necessary to be free, when you had people only protecting you? _I just want this to stop. I cannot._

“I-I! Love Big Br-!” he shrieked with the rats still spinning around his face, tearing and biting off the remaining flesh.

Why couldn’t this be inflicted on someone else? She was less intelligent than him. She never cared for the Party. Why, couldn’t he be a perfect asset? A gem to the Party, the High Class? No, he wouldn’t betray her. He tried to grasp the large rats again, and with the strength he had, he pulled them away from his face, but they still managed to rip more bits of flesh from his face, exposing his muscular system. He bellowed like a primitive animal, and then tried to escape the chair. He scrambled to the nearby bench. He spotted the pistol of one of the Thoughtpolice. He fell down in pain, and agony but still tried to reach for the pistol. He heard a click of O’Brien’s tongue in annoyance. His bony arm was then yanked with a massive force to face the old man. A hand was in mid air and smacked his stripped cheek. Winston was tossed against the floor. He tried forced himself to breath from that blow, but he was so weak now.

“How upsetting.”

Through his slit and damaged eyes and bruised face, Winston still clambered to the pistol. His bony knuckles finally reached the cold black metal. He looked defiantly at O’Brien and aimed the cool metal against his sweaty and scratched forehead. He opened his cracked and lip less mouth, leaking more blood out. With his gelatinous and burning arm, he aimed the pistol to his forehead.

“2 and 2 makes 4. Down with Big Brother.”

 He had won, he would die hating Big Brother, he would never betray Julia. He kept his shard of humanity and that couldn't be broken.

 A crack, a shot and then brain matter splattered across the black cell. O’Brien looked miffed, rubbed his nose and stepped over the lifeless body to exit the dark cell.

 


End file.
